


Across the Room

by imusuallyobsessed



Series: Making Her Forget [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Ambiguous timelines, CEO Felicity Smoak, F/M, Married Olicity, Mayor Oliver Queen, Olicity Hiatus Fic-A-Thon, ambiguous vigilante status, mayoral events, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 11:45:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11103915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imusuallyobsessed/pseuds/imusuallyobsessed
Summary: Felicity accompanies Oliver to a mayoral event, but can't seem to keep her focus on luring new businesses to Star City. Not when her husband keeps looking at her like that.





	Across the Room

**Author's Note:**

> Ambiguous timelines are fun! Everyone is alive and they’re all happy and I don’t care when this is supposed to fall in canon. Live in the happy bubble with me. Is Oliver the Arrow in this? I have no idea. It doesn't matter. Just enjoy it.
> 
> I also don't know if this actually warrants an M rating, but I'd rather be safe than sorry. Have a side of feminist friendship, too!
> 
> Prompt: eye contact.

Eye contact.

Burning across her skin, setting her on fire as his eyes settled on her face, her shoulders, then _lower_.

That was always how it started at these things.

Felicity _might’ve_ been ashamed she could barely keep herself from ogling her husband for a few hours, but she knew he was ogling her too and, well… anyone else with eyes wouldn’t blame her.

Especially when he was all… _mayoral_.

This was a city event to attract new businesses to Star City. Felicity was there in her capacity as CEO of Smoak Tech, but also as the mayor’s wife. She was pleased to note that most of the business people in attendance wanted to talk to her because of the CEO part, not the wife part.

Though one of the alderman’s wives had tried to pull her into a conversation about bi-monthly luncheons. Felicity barely managed to escape with her life. Oliver pulling her away helped, though.

“My hero,” Felicity murmured to Oliver, trying not to lean into him. At least, not too overtly. She ran her hand down the front of his jacket, her engagement and wedding rings glittering in the light, and felt the impression of his suspenders. She’d gotten a good look at them earlier. In detail.

She wanted another.

Not even Oliver’s promise of giving her a private show when they got home helped satisfy her. She’d been watching _Magic Mike_ earlier in the day while Oliver was helping with last-minute preparations, but apparently he’d been paying enough attention to her _not_ to like the look in her eyes during the dance routines. He’d pulled out her Kryptonite – suspenders – and swore in his growly voice that when they got home, she’d forget all about Channing Tatum. Felicity wasn’t sure what that meant, but she had images of shirtless Oliver plus suspenders dancing in her head…

“Felicity,” Oliver said, half warning, half want.

She looked up at him, not even trying to hide that she was batting her eyelashes when she bit her lip. “What? I’m not doing anything.”

Oliver growled. A shiver raced along Felicity’s spine, and she sighed – just a little – when his big, warm palm rested on her back. Right over the strategic cut-out in her dress. Warmth spread through her body.

“You know exactly what you’re doing.”

Felicity pouted and leaned even further into him. To outside observers, it might look as if they were trying to have a private conversation in a public setting. And they were. It was just a different kind of privacy that Felicity craved.

Honestly, she didn’t know what was wrong with her. Before the fundraiser, they’d had time to… satisfy themselves. Well, maybe they hadn’t had time, but Oliver had growled something about being the mayor and _making_ time, and who was Felicity to argue? He’d seemed intent to make Felicity forget Channing Tatum _twice_ tonight.

But it had been _so long_.

“I think I saw a coat closet near the back. The attendant was young, probably wouldn’t mind running off to take a break…”

“ _Felicity_.”

Normally, their roles were reversed. But tonight, Felicity cared just a little less about the eyes indiscreetly watching them, the photographers covering the event, and the reporters waiting for the chance to break a juicy story about Star City’s Royal Couple.

“Oliver,” she purred, and his fist clenched on her back.

Just as Felicity thought he would break – she recognized that look in his eyes – a new voice shouted, “Mayor Queen! Mrs. Queen!” and shattered their moment.

It was Mrs. Jenkins. Felicity was _not_ about to get roped into another conversation about her award-winning hydrangeas.

Also, it was Smoak-Queen and that old bat knew it.

Just as the older woman came up to them, Felicity slipped out of her husband’s embrace and took a step back. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Jenkins, but I promised Cat Grant I’d talk to her about opening a CatCo office in Star City. If you’ll excuse me.”

Felicity didn’t look at Oliver as she made her hasty escape. She could feel his eyes boring into her, burning her, and she wished she could turn.

Shaking away those thoughts, Felicity went to the bar and ordered a glass of red wine.

“You’d think these women would be able to remember you hyphenated, considering they can remember every mayor of Star City since its founding.”

Felicity half-turned, leaning against the bar to face none other than her excuse for running away: Cat Grant.

“Mrs. Grant, it’s a pleasure. I love your magazine and its conscious focus on female entrepreneurs,” Felicity said, holding out her hand. Cat shook it, a calculating look in her eyes. It wasn’t malicious, though. Far from it.

“Speaking of that, I wanted to talk to you about potential being on a cover. I know that’s not what this event is about, but I’ll have my people call your people?”

Felicity’s ‘people’ consisted of herself and one assistant – the indomitable, ferocious Mika – who did all the admin work with startling speed and competence. She took a sip of the red wine that had been sat in front of her to temper her reaction.

“Absolutely. I appreciate the consideration,” Felicity said. Though she forced herself to remain professional, she was freaking out and screaming a little on the inside. A magazine cover? Take that, boys who teased her in middle school!

Cat smiled, and the expression was so much like her namesake who got the canary that Felicity immediately made a mental note to put that expression in her own professional arsenal.

“I’m just trying to stay ahead of the pack, Mrs. Smoak-Queen. I’ve been keeping an eye on which contracts you land, and it’s ground-breaking for a one-woman show. Once Smoak Tech takes off, people will be clamoring to get a piece of you.”

“Please, call me Felicity.”

“Then please, call me Cat.”

The two women smiled at each other, polite and professional, but a tenuous alliance had been formed.

Felicity was flustered, unsure of what to say next, but Cat glanced over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow. “I believe your husband would like you back now, Felicity. He looks… combustible.”

Felicity glanced over her shoulder, and their eyes locked.

Eye contact. Piercing. Burning. _Incendiary_.

“Here’s my card, Felicity. Stay in touch.”

Before Felicity could attempt some form of a coherent goodbye – which she wasn’t sure of now – Cat handed her a business card and glided away.

Felicity somehow managed to slip the card into her clutch before Oliver was at her side, his hand unerringly finding that bare patch of skin on her back as he leaned over and whispered in her ear, “So, where is that closet, Miss Smoak?”

He was so close. They were only touching in two points – her back and his lips beside her ear – but his warmth overwhelmed her. Not just on her skin, but a fire _inside_ her. She was _burning_. And she needed Oliver.

She started walking across the room. Oliver stayed at her side. “Did you speak to everyone you planned?” she asked.

“Yes.” Low. Intense.

Another shiver danced down Felicity’s spine, and she breathed in sharply.

“Did you enjoy your talk with Cat Grant?” he asked.

“Yes. She wants me to be on the cover of her magazine.”

“Good,” he said, leaning over and brushing a kiss to her temple. He didn’t move away, though, keeping his body right against hers as they walked just a little faster through the room. “It’s about time everyone else started realizing how amazing you are.”

Felicity worried distantly that Cat might see her and Oliver speeding away, but the other woman seemed to hold herself to a certain standard and hopefully wouldn’t include stuff like this in her article. If Felicity even made the cover.

“Stop thinking like that,” Oliver admonished, reading her mind. They’d made their way into a side hall, but there were still a few people – caterers, planners, stray guests – milling about. But his voice was softer here, he curled into her a little further. Felicity felt like she was on fire, and it’s point of origin was Oliver’s hand on that bare patch of skin.

He continued, “You’ll be amazing. You handle the public aspect of these things way better than most people in your position.”

They turned a corner – an empty hall – and Oliver pressed her against the wall. His mouth fell to her neck, raining kisses across her skin.

She gasped, then giggled. “Yeah, at least I haven’t punched a paparazzi.”

She gasped again, louder, when his teeth sunk into her skin in retaliation.

“No hickeys, we promised!”

Oliver let go, then ran his tongue over the abused flesh. His hands were wrapped around her, cushioning her against the hard wall, and hers were free to slide under his suit to stroke his suspenders.

A loud crash startled Felicity out of her bubble, but when she turned her head Oliver just moved his mouth down her neck to her exposed shoulder, the strap of her blue dress having fallen under his questing hands. She wanted nothing more than to continue what they were doing, but…

“Not here,” Oliver growled, reading her mind again. Or maybe they were just that in sync.

Or he wanted her as much as she wanted him, and knew they wouldn’t be able to get away with everything they wanted to do to each other out in the open.

“There’s a closet just at the end of this hall,” he murmured, pulling back to kiss her once on the lips and rest his forehead on hers.

“Did you memorize the floorplan for escape routes?”

Oliver shook his head, a wolfish smile on his face. “Not for escape routes. I was thinking of…” his eyes wandered down her body, lingering particularly on her heaving chest. From his angle, she knew he would see more of her chest than normal. “… other things.”

“Frack, that is _so_ hot.”

No more words were necessary. Oliver took her head and led her to the storage closet. His eyes glittered in the dim room, crashing into hers, before they were both lost to pleasure.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! I'm getting closer and closer to trying to write actual smut for the first time... As you can see, I'm dipping my toes into it slowly with writing a lot of stuff that leads up to smut! Maybe by the end of hiatus I'll be brave enough.
> 
> Thanks again to @thebookjumper for organizing all this! Check her out on Tumblr, as well as me (account name is the same as here!) Drop me a comment and kudo -- I thrive on validation.


End file.
